Tonight we had yet another demonstration of why we should not let Mama's blood sugar get too low.
This weekend has been stressy for me - and I'd say 99% percent of that stress was self-induced (and 1% was my mother.) But I could mostly handle it and the general celebrations and yuletide stories and such. (The stories posted in the fandoms I know have been wonderful! You're all brilliant, it had to be fun, and I just wish I could get over my problem with the name, but that's *my* mishegoss.)
Except that tonight we were going to go out to dinner - just the local fleishig fast-food place. So I kept waiting for my husband to take his shower after going to gym. And waiting, and waiting. And not noshing because we were going out. And then it was 8PM and I realized he hadn't taken his shower.
Cue the waterworks. And the shouting and recriminations and the obsessive snit over all the wrongs I perceived done to me by the world in general. A Mama without food is not a pretty sight. Fortunately, my husband understands this. He took his shower at my insistance because I really get unreasonable and stubborn - my mind basically shuts down, you know?
And we went out in the snow to Chap-a-Nosh. Where, after a bowl of egg drop soup and a plate of not very good Szechuan chicken and fried rice (this is unusual. They have delicious Chinese food. I just ordered something different) I felt human again. I could engage in normal conversation and joke with the counterguys when I ordered take out for lunch tomorrow.
I have snack food in the house - cups of ramaan noodles, containers of nuts, rice crackers, whole wheat challah. I did not have to let my blood sugar get so low. This time, though, it snuck up on me. I think because of the extra, self-induced stress.